


Flying Sparks

by Elveny



Series: Spark of Hope [4]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Grief, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 04:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9641294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elveny/pseuds/Elveny
Summary: The time after the sudden break-up is hard on both Solas and Lyssa.





	1. You made me believe

**Author's Note:**

> I am currently reworking this whole series since posting it in 2017. It was originally just a rather lose collection of scenes to add flavor to the ingame scenes. By now my headcanon has shifted somewhat and I am trying to make it more of a whole.
> 
> Current state (June 2018) is two added chapters ("The Walk" and "Fade-touched") and an overhaul of eight or so chapters with by now nearly 20k additional words, another updated chapter is coming soon (prepare for more kisses), and I'm only in the 2nd part of this 5 part series. So there is more to come and even more important in my eyes: the existing work will be improved upon. Enjoy and thanks for being patient with me :D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And despite all, he owed it to himself, his people, his world to keep his promise.

"Solas!"

Her voice was desperate, unbelieving. He didn't turn around, clenching his fist as he forced himself to keep walking. He had just entered the cave leading away from the clearing, away from _her,_ when he heard the first sob.

 

It was a sound so full of despair, loss and hurt that it tore him apart. He maintained his composure until he was out of sight, then he sagged against the wall, covering his eyes with one hand, forcing himself to breathe. He could feel her pain even here, rippling through him, through all realities, adding to his own. He couldn't remember the last time he hurt so much. He lingered, hand clenched over his heart as if he could just rip it out, rip the pain and desperate love and the longing out and become himself again. The trickster. But could any scheme, any plan justify this? He pressed his lips and eyelids together as he listened to her anguished, hurt outcry, followed by the sound of a fireball exploding at a wall, then her crying. Shame and immeasurable pain flooded him, knowing he was the reason for her desperation. And he had caused it intentionally.

Compared to this, even waking to this fixed world nearly devoid of magic paled.

He had wanted to give her the truth. The truth. And when the moment came he hadn't been able to. He shouldn't have removed her vallaslin, he told himself, for it reminded him too much of another time when he had removed them so often while he fought for a better world. Just like now. And just like he would now, he had destroyed a world for what he had thought would be better, would be right. Seeing her freed from her slave markings had reminded him of what he had promised himself - to right this wrong, to fight until he had undone what he had caused.

But he couldn't bear the thought of her fighting this fight. She had so much on her shoulders already, how could he add another burden?

 _Really? Was that your reason? Or was it fear? Could she have loved the Dread Wolf?_ a cruel voice within him whispered and he couldn't deny the truth in it. She was trained to defend her people from him… even if it was only a distorted version, a legend about him. Was this just another selfishness - leave her before she would leave him when she learned the truth and learned to despise him? _Always in control, steering events to his advantage._ An old habit, an old ability. An ability learned throughout millennia - an ability which always had been less than successful when Lyssa was concerned. She had managed to surprise him in every possible way.

And deep within he knew that that was the true reason why he had to leave her now, more than the fear of rejection or some sense of protection. She would have managed to surprise him again, in ways he never could anticipate. She already made him love her more than he had thought himself able to and if she could do that without even meaning to what else could she have managed if she put her mind to it?

Staying with her would have meant to leave the Dread Wolf behind. And despite all, he owed it to himself, his people, his world to keep his promise.

But even as he pushed himself upright, a decisive clench in his jaw, the words sounded hollow.

 

A feeling of dread and coldness that tingled in his neck forced him out of his grief. He had brought her here party because the Veil was so thin and he had intended to show her something beyond it but now his impulsive decision to leave her came back to bite him. He could feel the demon of despair closing in, drawn by her, by _their_ feelings, gathering beyond the Veil, trying to push through.

And just like that, he knew he would never be able to stop trying to protect her. No matter where all this would lead them, she'd always be a priority. He'd take that and make it his shield.

He quickly left the cave, forcing himself to leave her behind, and found a place nearby, shielded from view, to set his wards and with an ease he never betrayed in company, he entered the Fade to fight the demon threatening her.

 

"Messere Solas?"

Scout Harding greeted him as he came back to the camp. Her eyes flickered behind him, along the way he had come down and confusion crossed her face. She hesitated, clearly unsure whether she was overstepping her bounds, as she asked: "Is Her Worship…?"

She didn't finish the sentence.

"I'm sure she'll be here soon", he assured her, tired to the bones.

"But you left together", Harding stated, brows furrowed.

"We… parted ways a while back. Now, if you'll excuse me…"

With the slightest hesitation, Harding made way for him but he felt her eyes on him as he gathered his bedroll and clothes from the tent he had shared with Lyssa and went into one of the other ones. With slow, deliberate movements betraying his exhaustion, he made himself as comfortable as it was possible on one of the pallets. The fight with the demon had been hard, taunting, especially in his own state of mind where he was more vulnerable than normally to its attacks. But the thought of Lyssa just beyond the Veil had spurred him on and as the demon fled, he had thought he might be able to find some peace of mind after all in the knowledge that he would protect her by any means possible even if she didn't know it.

He had been wrong, he realized now as her scent filled him, rising up from everything he owned and the pain was back in an instant, gripping him with raw cruelty and he found himself curling up into himself, throat closed, eyes burning as the reality of facing the rest of his existence without her hit home. Staring into the darkness, he tried to remember every little detail of their treasured time together. The slow smile that spread over her face when he looked up to find her watching him. The way she looked when she woke up in the morning. The little presents he continued to find on his desk, the way she laughed. The way she furrowed her brow when she was concentrating. Her face just before she had kissed him for the first time. The happiness in her eyes when he told her he loved her.

The pain as he left.

He carried the pain with him into his dreams as sleep took him.

 

"Messere!"

Slowly, Solas woke. A scout was shaking him, worry written all over his face. The sun was already up but didn't have enough power to have warmed the tent yet, Solas realized, then he forced back the last remnants of sleep in his mind as he sat up. This was highly irregular. The scouts didn't wake them unless something was up and even then, they normally didn't enter the tent.

"I humbly beg you pardon, messere, but scout Harding was adamant."

"It's alright. Report."

"It's Her Worship, messere."

This more than anything alerted every nerve in his body. He was already halfway into his pants before he fully realized he had grabbed them. What had happened?

"Ly - the Inquisitor?" He would have to get used to not call her by her name again. "What's happened?"

The scout's answer chilled him to the bone and a horrible fear clutched at his heart.

"She's missing."


	2. That tomorrow and today

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do not think I won't hold you accountable, though, if anything happens to her."

"You did WHAT?!"

Dorian was full of outrage and disbelief, clenching his fists and electricity crackled between his fingertips, telltale signs of his emotional state.

Solas' face was a mask of calmness, his hands clasped behind his back. Only the white showing in his knuckles betrayed his anguish.

"I do not believe our personal affairs are your concern", he said. "And she was in perfectly good shape when I left her. There is no reason to believe she is hurt."

As Dorian stepped up to him, he forced himself to stay where he was. He knew he deserved the other mage's rage but he wasn't willing to show it.

"You pointy-eared asshole", Dorian hissed, his nose nearly touching Solas'. "Not hurt? NOT HURT? After you just up and left her without warning or reason?!" His voice had become louder and louder until at the end he nearly shouted. The rest of the camp had become suspiciously quiet and too many Inquisition agents pointedly looked away or were immensely busy with whatever they had in their hands.

Solas narrowed his eyes at Dorian but otherwise he did not move a muscle. "Again, this is not your con-"

"Of course it is!"

Cassandra laid a hand on Dorian's shoulder and pulled him away from Solas.

"Calm down, Dorian. Yelling won't change anything right now", she said, but the look she shot Solas told him that she wasn't calm by any means.

"UGH!", Dorian exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and Cassandra gave him an annoyed look as he walked away to look over the landscape. For a few moments, the only sound that could be heard was the incredibly cheery chirping of a bird somewhere above and the scuffling of feet here and there.

"Back to work", Cassandra called out after a disapproving look over the campsite and the seemingly uninterested agents. "We still have to find her, so get out there!"

"Yes, messere."

Hastily, the agents and scouts took up their work, resuming conversations and plans and one or two even leaving the camp.

"I thought you of all people would approve of focussing on our fight against Corypheus", Solas said after a while, if only to break the ominous silence.

"I do. In theory", Cassandra conceded, glowering at Solas. "If it means, however, that the Inquisitor goes missing, I cannot."

Solas hung his head with a silent sigh. It had been a whole day and night since Lyssa had disappeared from Crestwood and so far, none of the search parties had come up with anything. Her trail went cold just beyond the former lake and neither Scout Harding's people nor Leliana's agents had been able to find her. It hadn't done anything for Solas' conscience and even if he didn't let it show, not a single second had passed without him doubting his decision.

"You are not suggesting as well that I hurt her, are you?" he asked and after a second, she sighed and shook her head.

"No. I do not believe you could if you wanted to", she said and searched his eyes. He held her gaze, then inclined his head to her. Even after two years, the Seeker's insights we remarkably on point. "And there was a trail, even if it went cold. So it just not possible that you did her any harm. Not physically at least."

This time, Solas couldn't help but flinch. There were rumors and suspicions, of course. A few of the scouts had even arrested him when Lyssa hadn't turned up the morning before, insisting on questioning him and he hadn't resisted. He was the last person to have seen her, to have been with her, after all. Cassandra had released him as soon as she came back to camp with Dorian the next day after their hunt with the new major of Crestwood.

"Do not think I won't hold you accountable, though, if anything happens to her", Cassandra added with a scowl.

"I understand", Solas nodded. He couldn't blame her. In fact, if anything were to happen to her, he wasn't sure he'd want anything less.

Dorian stomped back to them, still glaring at Solas.

"Did you wait until she proposed or -" He stopped mid sentence as he saw the look of pure horror on Solas' face. "Ha!", he exclaimed and somehow managed to add a sneer to it.

"By the Maker", Cassandra murmured and shook her head sadly.

Solas suddenly felt very cold and time seemed to come to a hold. He closed his eyes as the scene at the pond came back to him.

 

_"I've been trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me", he said, searching her eyes. Lyssa was all smiles and bright eyes, a softness in her features that showed her content happiness, mirroring his own feelings. Her fingers interlaced with his and she came a bit closer._

_"Solas, that is not necessary. You are my…", she started, looking intently at him, a twinkle in her eyes and a smile on her lips. And even if she hesitated at the end, her expressive face showed him just as well the extent of her feelings._

It had been before he decided to not follow through with his original plan and the love he had seen in her just filled him with intense happiness. A happiness the thought of which now made the hollow ache where it had been clench painfully.

_"That is the question, is it not?", he said quietly, caressing her face._

_She closed her eyes at his tender touch, leaning into it. Then she looked at him again and he could see she wanted to say something - but for once, his nervousness outdid his patience and he started speaking before she did. She deserved the truth, she had the right to know. She had the right to know everything._

She had reached for something, he had seen it. She had held something in her hand, hidden and at one point he had nearly asked about it - but then they had talked about the vallaslin and the moment was gone. He had fully intended to tell her the whole story, laying bare the rest of his soul, that one hidden part he hadn't let her see yet. And when it came to it, he had left, cowardly and determined in the last seconds, putting back on the mantle of the Dread Wolf, putting back on the masks she had managed to take off him.

 

"You honestly didn't know, did you?", Dorian asked and Solas opened his eyes again. Something in Dorian's voice told him that this time he hadn't been able to hide his feelings from the others. The Tevinter was still angry, that much was clear, but there was something else in his features as he looked at Solas. Pity. Incomprehension. Consternation.

"Kaffas", he cursed under his breath. "Why _did_ you leave her if you still love her?"

Solas didn't bother to answer and instead focussed on schooling his face again. Then he cleared his throat and looked at Cassandra. "I will go into the Fade and try to locate her there. She is a mage and the rifts here have weakened the Veil. There might be some spirits who have sensed her and also willing to help."

Cassandra sighed and then nodded her agreement. Dorian just shook his head.

"I do hope that whatever it is is truly worth it", he said as Solas walked away.

 

He hoped it as well. He had to.


	3. The sun would hold our hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So you propose to… do nothing?" Cassandra furrowed her brow.  
> "Exactly."

"And you are sure there is nothing new?"

Cullen looked like he might start to pace again any second. Leliana shook her head.

"Nothing. It is as if she's disappeared completely."

Cassandra had put both her hands on the wartable and her fingers drummed impatiently on the map. "So, what do we have by now?"

Josephine looked on her slip of paper. "Well, we have four sightings, one report by a tavern barkeep that she stayed the night and at least five reports of rifts being closed. According to the barkeep she was looking tired but overall alright. She came in late and left early."

Leliana indicated the places on the map. "They are approximately in a line towards Skyhold but so far nothing further down the direct road. No body though, either."

"That is at least something", Cassandra murmured.

"So, chances are that she is on her way here", Cullen said with furrowed brows and Leliana nodded.

"That is our working theory at least."

Josephine made some notes and then added: "It's been ten days now. The direct line on foot would be approximately eighteen days and she obviously isn't going in a direct line, so…" She let her notepad sink down and looked at the others with a look close to hopelessness. "Honestly, I don't know what else we can do? She obviously doesn't want to be found - which I can sympathize with in her situation - and with her history, she knows how to do that. What else can we do but wait?"

She was met with silence.

After a minute or so, Josephine sighed. "Well. I will continue to reschedule the most important meetings and -"

She was interrupted by a short knock at the door before it opened without anyone having said anything. Cullen shot the agent a furious look: "We are not to be-"

"Apologies, Commander", the woman interrupted him impatiently ignoring the way his eyebrows shot upwards at the impertinence, "news from the Inquisitor."

"What!", he and Cassandra barked at nearly the same time and the woman stepped aside, waving to someone in the corridor behind her. "I thought you might want to talk to him directly."

 

A very hesitant Dalish came in, head held high. His eyes darted from one to the next until they settled on Leliana who had come towards him.

"I have a message for the Inquisition?", he said cautiously, obviously intimidated by the sudden and concentrated attention on him.

"By the Inquisitor herself?", Cassandra asked impatiently and he looked back to the agent who had brought him in. She nodded vigorously and he turned back to the war council.

"By a sister of ours from the Lavellan clan, yes. She asked us to tell you that she is undertaking Vir Bor'assan but she will be back before the moon is full once more."

Leliana looked to the others. "That is in ten days."

Josephine's face was full of relief. "So she _is_ coming back."

"When did you talk to her?" - "Where did you meet her?" Cullen and Cassandra asked at the same time and the elf looked taken aback.

"I have talked to her six days ago", he said but when Cassandra repeated her question, he shook his head slightly. "That is clan's concern and not my place to disclose. She promised compensation for the message?"

Leliana looked at the agent. "See to it that he is given whatever he demands", she said and nodded to the Dalish. "Thank you."

Cassandra waited until the door closed behind the agent and the elf before she turned to Leliana. "We should question him! Are you really letting him go?"

Leliana just nodded. "We are. Do you honestly want to tell the Inquisitor that we held her messenger against his will?"

"No", Cassandra admitted but it was clear she didn't like it.

"If he talked to her six days ago", Cullen mused, "she might actually arrive sooner than in ten days. I think we can focus our search on an area much closer to Skyhold than we originally thought." He drew a circle around the area on the map.

"Or we could just give her the time she needs", Josephine said quietly.

 

"FINALLY someone with a decent thought in her head", Dorian exclaimed, throwing the door wide open. Cullen sighed annoyed and rubbed two fingers over the bridge of his nose. Dorian saw his expression and scoffed.

"Really, did you think someone would come in here, tell the first news about Lyssa in more than a week and it would not make its round before you all even knew about it? Keep up, featherfur!"

"Why am I not surprised", Cassandra groaned while Leliana and Josephine exchanged a look that said more than words. Josie suppressed a smile.

"Honestly, people, I still cannot believe why you all can't just back off for a while", Dorian shot into the round. "As our darling ambassador so eloquently put, if Lyssa doesn't want to be found, she won't. She's been a mage in hiding her whole life and she was with the Dalish, do you honestly think you would have even what you have if she hadn't left clues for you to find, no offense to the skills of your agents, Leliana."

Cullen cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "I hadn't thought of it that way", he confessed.

"Of course not", Dorian said and rolled his eyes, folding his arms before his chest.

"So you propose to… do nothing?" Cassandra furrowed her brow.

"Exactly. When the moon is full again and she hasn't come back, you can still search the area with a comb."

For some moments, they just looked at each other until Leliana sighed and shrugged. "So, it's decided then", she said and after some hesitation, the others nodded.

"But, what is Vir…" Josephine looked down at her notes, "Vir Bor'assan?"

"That, my desert rose, you should ask our damned heartbreaker, I daresay", Dorian said and smirked in a rather unpleasant way. "Want me to do the honors?"

"No need", Solas said from behind and came in through the open door, pointedly ignoring Dorian who shot him an icy look. As usual, he had a regal and undisturbed air about him but the fact alone that he got the information and came to talk to them by himself spoke volumes.

"I heard about the messenger and what he said and thought you would need some background. Vir Bor'assan is part of the elven philosophy Vir Tanadhal, the Way of the Three Trees, taught to Dalish hunters in honor of the Goddess Andruil. Normally, a Keeper, as Ly- the Inquisitor was trained to be, would not -"

"Just get to the point", Dorian interrupted and Solas narrowed his eyes at him.

"Very well", he said. "Viv Bor'assan is the Way of the Bow - bend but never break. I believe she is undertaking a personal… quest, if you want, to train herself in endurance."

"I wonder why that would be necessary." Dorian's voice dripped acid but again, Solas ignored him.

"I am unfamiliar myself with the exact details but I do believe the Dalish agent we met in the Exalted Planes might give further information", he said while looking at Leliana, then he excused himself.

 

Solas made his way through the excitedly gossiping nobles in the main hall back to his study. Sitting down, he tried to focus back on his research on Corypheus but all he could do was stare at the words on the parchment, the letters blurring to meaningless nonsense. He had spoken the truth when he had said that he was unfamiliar with the exact details of the Vir Bor'assan nowadays but from what he had learned about the Dalish, he was nearly sure that they had been able to maintain the very essence of the ancient custom. Back in his time, it had involved prolonged torture, both physical and psychological. Bend but never break. Andruil's elite soldiers had been trained in that way and they had been the epitome of cruelty. Without remorse, without pity and going onwards even with a deadly wound until they collapsed dead on the battlefield, they had slaughtered hundreds of thousands.

He knew the Dalish had no such emotionless soldiers so the Vir Bor'assan obviously was no longer the same. But judging from what he knew, it was still designed to entail pain. A lot of pain. And Lyssa was submitting herself to it.

Solas' hand cramped around the parchment before him as he closed his eyes, allowing himself a moment of emotional weakness, the pain and remorse crashing over him like a burning wave.

_What have I done._

Then he took a deep breath and smoothed the parchment again, pushing his emotions back down, deep down.

_Focus._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Vir Bor'assan philosophy is per se canon but everything apart from "Bend, never break" is my idea.


	4. But the night came in to stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hello Dorian.”
> 
> He only snorted. “Come on now. Let’s get you to the infirmary. Or maybe the baths first. You stink.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Layanna is the OC of a treasured friend who was so kind as to let Layanna lend her voice to this scene. <3

Lyssa saw the agent before he saw her but this time, she didn't go into hiding. It was surprisingly hard to not give in to the urge of staying hidden but she knew it was time to go back. To finish what she had come to accept as her burden. And a part of her even looked forward to coming back to Skyhold - if only to get her wounds finally properly dressed and to take a long, hot bath, all the little comforts she had gotten used to over the time. Even if it meant having to face Solas again. The thought still left a trail of dripping darkness in her soul, small stings of emptiness that all the pain she had submitted herself to hadn't been able to erase.

_Bend, never break._

It had helped to put things into perspective, though, and it had taught her a lot about herself - or at the very least made her remember things about herself she had forgotten. She had learned that she was able to withstand constant pain and still get up again and fight another day. Literally. She had remembered how to push beyond her own limitations. She had learned how to work through blood loss and not lose consciousness, she had learned how to accept the trembling of overtired limbs and draw strength from there. A lot of it had a familiar touch to it, bringing her back to the time when she had stumbled towards Kirkwall after fleeing Denerim with her sick mother on her arm. One day she even had been so delirious that she had talked to her dead mother.

She only remembered bits and pieces of that day. A cold, drizzling night that had turned into a rainy day. The pounding rain and the way she had stumbled through mud, the feeling of a cough that was stuck in her breast. She had thought she’d seen her mother next to her, even laid an arm around her, pulling her onwards, knowing she had to get her to safety. But when she had reached a tree with branches big enough to keep the worst of the rain away, there had been nobody in her arm. She remembered falling asleep shivering and hungry, feeling her mother’s hand on hers but seeing nobody whenever she blinked. Reality had only come crushing down on her again when she had woken to a terror demon falling upon her, screeching. 

_Bend, never break._

And she had come to appreciate the immediacy of physical pain, breaking through the daze her wounded heart put on reality. It was not to be ignored, not when the cuts were deep enough.

Now she pushed the shadows back that threatened her vision again and took a deep breath, forcing herself to go on. As a healer, she knew only too well that her body's strength wasn't limitless and that she had reached what it could endure from loss of blood, lack of sleep and lack of food. But her journey would only end in Skyhold itself. She had talked with the Warmaster about it in great length, detailing what to do and how to deal with the Vir Bor'assan in general since it was very unusual for a non-warrior to undertake it and to undertake it without a watcher who interfered when things got out of hand. She hadn’t had someone watching over her but that was just as she had wanted it to be. Remembering to only rely on herself.

_Bend, never break._

She was stronger now. She felt stronger. When she could make it this far, she’d make it past the pain. Some day.

 She had the luxury of remaining unrecognized within the several people and carts undertaking the journey to Skyhold. Since they had become an actual power, there was a steady stream of people and carts, merchants or troups coming and going. Since she had left without her weapons or armour, she had been re-equipped by the clan she had found and nobody gave a rogue Dalish in traditional armour a second glance. Not even her staff raised many eyebrows.

 

That changed as soon as she entered the courtyard, though.

“She’s here!” - “Is that the Inquisitor?” - “She’s back!”

Shouts and whispers accompanied her on her way to the stairs towards the upper courtyard, then something flickered next to her and Cole appeared, looking at her with sad eyes.

“You’re back”, he said and Lyssa nodded tiredly, not stopping. All she wanted was to reach her room to change and wash and tend to her wounds. Maybe even eat something.

“But something stayed behind. Beneath the waterfalls...”, Cole wondered idly and Lyssa raised a hand, coming to a halt.

“Stop it, Cole”, she said firmly and at the same time marveled at hearing her voice for the first time in days. She narrowed her eyes at the spirit, wanting to say more but then she settled for a simple: “Go.”

Cole flickered and vanished again. Nearly at the same time, Cassandra reached her. “You’re back”, she exclaimed, relief written all over her face, before it was replaced by worry as her eyes scanned the dried blood on her armour and skin, the wound on her shoulder and cheek, the scratches on her arms. “What happened?”

“Terror demon”, Lyssa only said and managed to give Cassandra a small, tired smile. “I’ll explain what I can as soon as I’ve cleaned myself up.”

“Of course”, the warrior nodded and tried to put an arm around Lyssa’s waist to support her but the elf shook her head.

“I’ll make it by myself, thank you.”

“Oh just let her help you, you stubborn old hag. You look like you’ve just crawled out of a dog fight pit.”

Lyssa couldn’t help but smile at her friend who hurried down the stairs to meet them. “Hello Dorian.”

He only snorted. “Come on now. Let’s get you to the infirmary. Or maybe the baths first. You stink.”

For a moment she still resisted, then she decided it was easier to just give in to his fussing. Fighting demons was easier than fighting Dorian. Cassandra nodded and this time, Lyssa didn’t say anything when she supported her on her way up. Dorian kept chattering about nothing and shooed people out of their way which made it easier not to look at anyone.

 

“What’s with her face?”, she heard someone whisper and her stomach cramped. She kept her eyes to the ground and not for the first time, she felt weirdly naked. She hadn’t looked at herself yet but it still _felt_ wrong not having her vallaslin. Everytime she touched her face and didn’t feel the delicate, raised markings on her skin, she was reminded of the night at the waterfalls. But she was also reminded of her long talk with the Keeper and the hahren of the helping clan and how they had promised to look closer into the matter of the blood writing being actually slave markings, digging through stories and books. She’d have to get in touch with them soon. They finally made it into the Great Hall when she felt it.

 

His gaze was like the whisper of a flame on her skin and she shivered, involuntarily looking up. And there he was, standing in the door leading into the rotunda, half hidden behind a bunch of people lining the way. For an endless moment their eyes met and she could see the pain on his face, the relief, the regret, the grief. Her breath caught in her throat and the pain that shot through her was worse than anything she anticipated.

_Bend, never break._

She purposefully moved her shoulder so that the wound cracked open again, blood trickling down beneath her shirt, hot and painful and she flinched. When looked back to the door, he was gone.

“I’m glad you’re back with us, Ember”, Varric said and she focussed her attention to the dwarf, ignoring everything else.

“Thank you, Varric. I’m sorry to have worried you all so.”

“Don’t you think about that now. You’re back is all that matters.”

“Inquisitor!” Josephine’s voice nearly cracked at the word and Lyssa saw she was on the verge of tears. The Antivan came to a halt in front of her and seemed to just so stop herself from hugging her. Instead, she cleared her throat and immediately went into work mode. “I’ve ordered a bath brought up to your rooms and Layanna is on her way up and some food as well”, she said as she stepped up next to them. “There will be no meetings or hearings for the next two days, I figured you needed some time to… well. Settle in again.”

Lyssa smiled softly. “Thank you, Josephine. But that won’t be necessary. Just give me an hour or so to clean up and then you can brief me on what happened while I was away and what to do next.”

“What? No way!” - “Ember, are you sure you’re up to that?” - “Surely, that is not...” - “Oh no, Inquisitor…” The four of them started simultaneously and Lyssa flinched at the sudden noise, holding up a hand in defeat.

“Alright, alright, please just… alright”, she said and Josephine looked at her apologetically but firmly.

“We’ll hear what the healer says, shall we?”

Lyssa nodded. “Thank you”, she murmured and nodded at Josie and Varric who stayed behind in the Great Hall while Dorian and Cassandra accompanied her up to her room.

 

With a sigh Lyssa sat down on the bed, closing her eyes for a moment, ignoring the slight shifting of the room, breathing deeply. Cassandra looked at Dorian and both seemed to be unsure what to do next.

“It’s alright”, Lyssa said, touched by their concern. “I’ll be alright. I’ll just lie down until Layanna arrives.”

“I don’t like the idea of you staying alone right now”, Dorian said bluntly but Lyssa just looked at him.

“I was alone for the last two weeks.”

“Three”, Cassandra interjected and Lyssa blinked.

“That long?”

Cassandra nodded grimly and Lyssa looked down on her hands for a second. She had obviously lost more than the one day she didn’t remember. “Well, point stands”, she finally said, “I’ll manage. Also, I’m gonna undress and I know you are far too modest to help me with that.”

Dorian coughed. “True. I could turn around, though.”

Lyssa raised an eyebrow and he coughed again, turning a slight pink. Cassandra looked at him and rolled her eyes.

“Ugh”, she made and without prompting, she started to help Lyssa open the buckles of her armour. With an adorable squeak, Dorian swirled around and pretended to be intensely fascinated by the books in her shelf.

“You really don’t have to”, Lyssa protested but Cassandra shook her head.

“I’ve seen the way you move. I’ll help.”

With a sigh, Lyssa said goodbye to the thought of being alone again and gave herself to her friends’ care. Cassandra helped her out of the armour and grimaced when she saw the way her shirt clung to several open wounds and cuts. The slash on her shoulder was the worst, where the terror demon’s claws had penetrated all the way through but it was by no means the only one. Deep cuts and bruises covered most of her torso and several smaller cuts were on her arms and legs. A particularly nasty one gaped on her cheek, green discolouration surrounding it.

“Was it really necessary?”, she at one point asked and Dorian risked a look over his shoulder at her.

“It was”, Lyssa just murmured and ripped the shirt from a dried cut without flinching. She had done that often enough. Dorian just shook his head with a grim look on his face.

 It wasn’t long until servants brought a wooden tub and filled it with hot water, adding ground elfroot to it, obviously at Layanna’s request who followed shortly afterwards, shooing Dorian and Cassandra out of the room against Dorian’s vocal protest.

“It’s really not that bad”, Lyssa said when the door fell shut, drawing on some of her magic to stop the bleeding in her shoulder.

 “’It’s only a fleshwound’ said the warrior when he lost both of his legs and was never again able to fight.” Layanna shook her head and let the leather bag she had brought with her slump on a small table. Inside small glass flasks could be heard rattling against each other. 

“So, let me see.” 

Lyssa sighed as the magic flowed into her, the familiar burn and tingling of a healing wound. It would not be able to close it completely, she knew but the easing of the pain alone was balm on her soul.

“Soooo…” When she had finished her work, closing what was possibly with her magic and applying stitches to the others, Layanna examined the wounds and then nodded. “Time for the bath I think. Do you need help?”

Lyssa took a deep breath and opened her eyes again, then she shook her head.

"I don't think so, no." She carefully straightened and got up slowly. How come she had been able to push herself through this whole thing up until now and when all she needed to do was continue she felt so tired? She had barely made it to a standing position when the room started to spin and she instinctively grabbed for Layanna's arm.

"Sorry", she murmured, straightening again and then making her way towards the tub. "Listen, can you tell Josephine that I'm fine and ready to go back to work? She'll want to know."

Layanna eyed Lyssa suspiciously as she was getting up and had her arm ready when the elf grabbed it. “Don’t fret, I’m here”, she murmured and held onto her as she guided her to the steaming bathtub. 

“Are you quite sure? One or two more days without their beloved Inquisitor won’t hurt anyone but might do you a lot of good… though…,” she attentively helped her to get into the bathtub, “you might want to get your mind off of things, hm? I mean, not that it is any of my business. But perhaps we can find something else to get your mind engaged without expecting too much of your body?”

Lyssa had closed her eyes with a sigh after the first flinching about the sting of the hot water on her battered body. She had forgotten what a bliss a hot bath meant. For a moment she just enjoyed the relaxing feeling on her muscles, feeling like a whole river bed of mud and dried blood and stink came off her before she started scrubbing herself while the healer went to her bag and flipped through the potions.

“Ah, there you are.” Layanna came back and showed her a small phial. “A potion with an extract of a wyvern’s poison in it. I’ve been keeping it for… extreme circumstances. I can give it to you if you really need it to get your strength together for work.”

Slowly, Lyssa took it, looking at it thoughtfully.

"Hm. Since Josephine probably won't let me do anything but sit for the next few days I don't think it'll be necessary. But thank you nonetheless. I'll bring it back if I don't need it."

Layanna gave her a look that said she didn't believe that it wouldn't be necessary but she still nodded. "Good. Now. Make sure you eat and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow I want you to come by the infirmary so I can check the wounds and redo the bandages I'm gonna apply as soon as you're halfway clean, understood?"

Lyssa smiled. "Alright. Thank you, Layanna."

The healer helped her scrub every bit of dirt from her skin and hair and rubbed some arnica oil scented with mint and roses into her sore muscles when she came out of the bath. Then she dressed the wounds and made sure the tub was brought out and Lyssa was eating before she took her leave. Finally, Lyssa was alone.

 She leant at the back of her bed, propped up against a pillow, dipping some bread into the broth she had been brought. Through the window she could hear the familiar noises from Skyhold - the neighing of the horses, the flutter of flags and now and then a clank of armour from the patrols, the laughter and cheering from the tavern. She stared out through the window into the night that had fallen, feeling a strange mix of being lost and home.


	5. While you made other plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Actually, there is still one thing to do", she said quietly.
> 
> "Oh no, Ember", Varric said and put the quill aside. "Are you sure about that? Getting blood stains out of the marble is a pain in the ass."

It was late in the evening when she made her way down to the Great Hall. Thankfully, it was nearly empty and those left there didn’t dare bother her. She felt much better, now that her wounds were closed or at least tended to, she was clean and for the first time in days she didn’t have the hollow ache of hunger in her belly. Lyssa nodded towards a few Orlesian nobles who chattered incessantly, glasses of wine in their hands. Varric was still sitting in front of the fire, writing. He looked up as she approached.

"Ember, hey. I thought you'd be fast asleep by now."

Lyssa smiled slightly. "I slept for an hour or so. Believe me when I tell you it is impressive how quickly the body adjusts to something new", she said.

"Yeah, tell me about it", Varric murmured, making a note on the parchment in front of him. "Every time we're back on the road I have back aches for three days before I'm used to it again. And when I'm back in my warm, soft bed, it's the same."

"That's called aging, my friend", she said and Varric chuckled.

"Good to see you haven't lost your humor on your torture trip. So. What are you up to? I've explicitly told everyone to stay away for the day, so don't expect any visitors."

She smiled again. "Thanks." Then her eyes went to the closed door next to her friend and the smile died on her face. "Actually, there is still one thing to do", she said quietly.

"Oh no, Ember", Varric said and put the quill aside. "Are you sure about that? Getting blood stains out of the marble is a pain in the ass."

Lyssa gave him a lopsided grin. "I don't plan to kill him."

"No? Because Dorian would be devastated if you beat him to the punch. He was rather imaginative in his threats."

Lyssa could just imagine what kind of things Dorian had said and she didn't begrudge them, even if she didn't think them necessary. Despite it all.

"No", she answered. "But there's something I need to know."

Varric looked at her worriedly. "Take care of yourself, Ember."

Lyssa nodded and then went to see Solas in his study.

 

He was still working, as she had hoped he would. As she had expected. She knew his habits so well and somehow it was good to see that they hadn't changed just by them being separated.

 

Solas paused as he saw her enter. He clearly hadn't anticipated to see her here. A range of emotions went over his face before he schooled himself, putting on his most regal and undisturbed aura.

“Inquisitor. How may I help you prepare for our final battle?” he asked, overly formal. The neutral words sliced through her like a knife. It was as if a trench had opened up between them, swallowing everything that had connected them.

“I’d like to discuss what happened before, Solas.”

She desperately tried to be calm and professional, mirroring his detachment.

He avoided meeting her eyes, rearranging some books on his table. “I’m afraid that wouldn’t be appropriate at this time. We must focus on what truly matters", he said matter-of-factly, straightening to finally look at her.

Again, she felt like she could feel his gaze physically on her skin but more than that, it was these words that made her breath caught in her throat. For a second she wasn’t able to breathe. He thought this didn’t matter? _They_ didn’t matter?

But his face spoke a different language as he looked at her. She could see the small movement of his lips, pressing together ever so slightly and the way his fingers moved to clench just to be forcibly relaxed again, nearly imperceptible. She tilted her head, looking at him unhappily as she realized what he tried to do. He tried to keep her away.

He swallowed and held her gaze. “Harden your heart to a cutting edge and put that pain to good use against Corypheus,” he said with an edge to his voice. For a long moment, she didn't answer. She saw he meant what he said, probably had used it himself. And didn't she attempt to do exactly that? To take her pain and make it a weapon? _Bend, never break_ , she remembered, raising her chin.

“You really don’t let anyone see under that polite mask you wear, do you?” She couldn’t keep the hurt completely from her voice and his features softened as he slowly exhaled, never taking his eyes off her.

“You saw more than most”, he finally said quietly and something passed between them. She shivered and her heart clenched. For a second she thought he might add something but then he looked down, putting on the mask again.

“Let me know if I can be of any more help planning our final fight”, he said, nearly tenderly and turned back to his study.

 

Lyssa waited for a long moment, just staring at his back, resisting the urge to touch him. Her eyes burned and breathing hurt but she didn’t cry. When she finally turned to leave, she had to force herself to put one foot in front of the other, so tired was she suddenly. At the door frame, she halted for a last time, turning around again.

"I just wanted to know… whether… was it me? Was it my fault?"

Solas paused and she could see his shoulders tense.

"No", he finally murmured.

"Say it to my face", Lyssa demanded, clenching a fist. Harden your heart to a cutting edge, right?

He slowly turned to face her, his face deeply sad. "No. Never”, he repeated and she knew he meant it. His eyes burned into hers, telling her more than she was sure he intended to show her.

She hesitated for a long moment, before she forced herself to ask: "Do you still love me?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper, carrying all her suffering and grief, every unspoken word and deep-felt emotion. But it was as if the words froze before they reached him, falling to the ground between them.

 

Solas didn't answer. She waited for him to move, to tell her something, to tell her a lie. To tell her that he had never loved her, that he had played with her, that he had pretended all the time and that she only was a distraction, fun, a game. But he didn’t. She could see his internal struggle and somehow she knew the extent of his own pain. It didn’t help. But somehow it was enough.

 

She turned around and left. What stayed was the faint scent of roses and mint and sadness.

 

 


	6. When there's nothing left to say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad, Cullen. I'm just saying - I know grief. I've always known it. I just… forgot for a while. But I'll remember how to live with it again. And if I can do this, you can, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cassia is Kunstpause's Hawke who stayed behind in the Fade while her twin sister Adriene made it out.
> 
> More Cassia-Cullen background can be found in Kunstpause's and mine Uncompromising series.

Cullen looked up and suppressed an annoyed sigh.

"What is it", he demanded and the soldier looked back at him guilty. All during the briefing she had continuously looked back to the door, a concerned look on her face.

"Apologies, Commander", she said, snapping to attention. "It's just…" She hesitated for a second and her face softened with pity. "It's the Inquisitor. She's been on the battlements for the last hour, just staring, unmoving and it's… Well, it's getting dark."

Cullen straightened and furrowed his brow, his own eyes going towards the door.

"Dismissed", he barked and nodded at the soldier. She looked relieved and saluted, before leaving the room.

The commander took a deep breath, then he went outside to look for the Inquisitor. When he saw her leaning against the battlements, staring up into the sky as the first stars appeared, he hesitated. They never had been especially close, even if they had developed a friendly and respectful relationship in the last months, and for a moment he thought about going to get Dorian or Varric. They would probably know better what to tell her.

Since she had reappeared a few days ago after nearly three weeks, battered and scarred, she had been nothing but professional and concentrated on her duties. And still, there was a permanent air of sadness around her that made most people tiptoe in her vicinity. She didn't really seem to notice. He often felt reminded of her first months in the Inquisition when she had avoided meeting the gaze of most, keeping to the edge of everything. But different than then, she did not try to watch everything and everyone now. Now she seemed to be mostly lost in her own thoughts or in her work, pointedly avoiding a certain study in the rotunda. Just like the whole of Skyhold thanks to Dorian's rather vocal exclamations and the ensuing gossip, Cullen knew what had happened. But even without that, he would have known. The way she avoided Solas and the way he looked at her when she didn't realize it, told him enough. And he wasn't sure he could really help her with a broken heart like a close friend would be able to.

He was already turning to go and find Dorian when he saw her shiver in the cool night air. He paused for a moment, then he went to her, unfastening his coat and putting it around her shoulders.

Lyssa seemed to wake from a daydream as the warm fur came around her.

"Thank you", she murmured, snuggling deeper into the coat and he nodded with a lopsided smile, putting his arms on the battlements next to her and following her gaze to the star constellation appearing over the horizon.

"Are you alright?", he asked when he looked back at her.

"No", she said. "But I will be. Once I'm used to the grief again."

He did not really know how to answer that. Her voice was very calm and yet his heart clenched when he heard the emotions behind the words, emotions he at the moment could comprehend so damn well. For a moment, he just looked at her. He still wasn't used to how changed she was without the elven markings and the still evil-looking wound on her cheek which would leave a scar. She looked very vulnerable.

"I am sorry", he finally managed to say and the shadow of a smile flickered across her face.

"Me too. But thank you", she said quietly and sighed.

A few moments he just stood next to her, keeping her company. Just when he was about to leave and get Dorian after all because he wasn't sure this was helping in any way, Lyssa said: "Did you know I used to be scared like the Blight of you?"

Finally, she looked at him, the hint of a smile on her lips even if her eyes still held the same sadness as before. Cullen was surprised at the sudden change of topic and shrugged a bit sheepishly, then he nodded.

"Yes, I knew. You always looked as if I would draw my sword on you any second. Once, you even flinched as if expecting a hit when I reached for something. I always figured it had something to do with my being a Templar and you… well. Not a Circle mage."

"Apostate, you mean."

"I… well… I know the Dalish mages are trained even if…" Cullen stopped as she raised an eyebrow with a knowing look and sighed. "Yes. Apostate."

"Makes sense", she nodded, "but that was not it."

He tilted his head, leaning on his elbow as he turned to her, his curiosity spiked.

"What was it then?"

"Your looks."

Cullen blinked, not sure whether he should be offended. "I beg your pardon?"

She gave him a lopsided smile. "Your height, the muscular build, the short-cropped blonde hair…"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably at her words and felt his ears get hot. He had no idea where this was leading. "Uhh", he made and she chuckled softly.

"Don't worry, I'm not flirting with you, Commander", she said which only lead to his ears turning a deeper shade of red.

"Of course not", he said shortly and cleared his throat. "I never would have assumed. Ahem."

For a second, she looked down at her hands, touching her left ring finger where a ring would sit and her smile turned sad again. "You look like the spitting image of the man who killed my husband."

Cullen blinked again, taken aback. That was not in the least what he had expected to hear. Completely thrown off guard, he said the first thing that came to his mind: "You were married?"

Lyssa chuckled softly at the question. "Yes. His name was Nelos. He was killed defending me from the man who gave me this." She touched the old scars on her lip and temple. "The clan was vilified by a discontent merchant who riled up a whole village. They came with torches and swords and what was probably a bunch of mercenaries. The man managed to surprise me as I was warding a couple of aravels to protect the children and those not able to fight. And he would've killed me, had Nelos not come between us. He was an excellent fighter, but better with a bow than with daggers and the human had a broadsword."

Cullen had grown very still as she talked. She had never talked to him about her past, he realized. She had asked him about his family and his life but somehow, it had never occurred to him to inquire after hers. Now that he thought about it, nearly all that he knew about her was that she was Dalish - somehow that had been enough. He vaguely remembered Josephine talking scandalized and shocked and full of empathy about something Lyssa had told her, about the way insults had more than once led to her clan having to defend themselves but somehow he had never really thought about what that actually entailed. He should have, he now realized with shame.

"I…", he said, swallowing. "I never knew. I'm sorry."

"Thank you. It was a long time ago. But he was the last of my family. My da and twin brothers died just before the Blight and my eldest brother didn't survive the training after they forced him into armor."

Cullen was surprised. He knew that many cities had forcibly recruited people when the darkspawn threatened but he never heard of Dalish being recruited. "Your brother? But…"

Lyssa seemed to get his meaning. "I wasn't born Dalish", she explained. "I used to live in Denerim. My mum and I left the alienage just a week before they closed the gates and started selling my people to slavers. We wandered about the land more or less aimlessly, starving, winter coming closer until we stumbled upon a Dalish clan by accident and luck. Or rather they stumbled upon us. They took us in. Two years later, my mother died from some wasting sickness eating her up from inside. Nelos was the one helping me find my own way when everyone else was gone. And then he was gone, too, with one stroke of a blade. Ever since I had been stumbling through life, just trying to get to the next day - and when I had found my footing again, the Conclave exploded and you took me captive and ever since I haven't seen anyone of my clan who are the closest thing I have to a family. I was so very alone."

Cullen was speechless and for a few minutes he didn't really know where to look. How came he never knew any of this? He had known they weren't especially close but now he felt like he never actually talked to her. Now that he thought about it, he realized they had mostly talked about work-related stuff. Or he had talked about his family. He cleared his throat, ashamed at his egocentricity. Suddenly, he felt cold, slender fingers on his hand, pressing it softly. When he looked up, Lyssa smiled at him, her face full of sympathy and sadness.

"I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad, Cullen. I'm just saying - I know grief. I've always known it. I just… forgot for a while. But I'll remember how to live with it again. And if I can do this, you can, too."

He nodded, unsure how this had become about him when he had wanted to comfort her. "Thank you", he murmured, swallowing down the grief that had welled up at her words. He still hadn't come to terms with Cassia's disappearance, just when they had found each other again. He still didn't know how to deal with it.

"It was… just when I thought I had reached a point where everything finally felt right again", he said slowly, only realizing the truth of it as he spoke the words out loud. "After the blood mages in Lake Calenhad's Circle I thought I knew everything. Mages were dangerous and we Templars protected the people. Then Kirkwall and Knight-Commander Meredith proved that Templars could be just as bad - even though Kirkwall had its fair share of the worst of blood mages, let me tell you. Cassia was the one keeping me sane back then, showing me just how imperfect and perfect we all are. The blood mage fighting on my side, on our side. On the side of the people. We hadn't intended to fall in love. I think we both fought it for quite some time. And when we had finally found each other, Meredith overstepped the last lines, Anders blew up the Chantry and this whole crazy war broke out. Cassia had to disappear. And I was… I made the Inquisition my new anchor. But I think I was losing the battle against myself, against the lyrium - even though you helped me a great deal yourself", he hastily added, not wanting to let her think she had fought for and talked to him for nothing. But Lyssa didn't seem to be offended. She still had her hand on his, watching him intently, silently. That was it, he realized then, what had made him tell her so much about himself already - she listened, really listened. It was easy to talk to her.

"When Cassia showed up here, everything seemed to come back into focus", he continued. "Suddenly, lyrium wasn't important. Mages against Templars wasn't important. I _felt_ … good. And now she's gone again. Just when…" Cullen stopped, blinking in the cool night air, as his throat closed.

"… just when everything had felt right again", Lyssa repeated his words from a few minutes ago and nodded. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "That's it exactly. Everything had felt like it could finally be alright again, maybe even forever. And now everything is back to mostly pain and confusion. As if the center piece of a puzzle is just missing."

"Yes", Cullen said very quietly. He had closed his fingers around hers, feeling connected to the Inquisitor like never before. He hadn't talked to anybody about this before now. And seeing, _feeling_ that she understood, really understood him, helped. Suddenly, he no longer felt as alone.

"Did he give you a reason?", he finally asked and she shook her head.

"No." She looked back to the horizon and he saw her lip tremble ever so slightly. "I know he still loves me. But not enough. Not enough." Her voice broke at the last words and without thinking, Cullen took her into his arms, holding her as she cried in what probably was the first time since she was back in Skyhold and maybe longer.

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the date of the break up. Ingame it happens after the Temple of Mythal, in my timeline it happens some time after Adamant but before the Temple.


End file.
